Notes on a transformation... or how one confused little girl ended up with far too many degrees in the search for where she belongs

Jul 19, 2009

Amicalement votre

Dear London,

I'm back. Did you miss me? Somehow I don't remember it being so cold when I saw you last. Ah well, you were always one to pull off a chill in the middle of July. I suppose it's part of your charm.

It's nice being in the old neighbourhood again, far away from the dangers of your whizzing-cabbies-center. Your quiet streets and locked-up gardens (very Frances Hodgson Burnett) are more my style.

Like you, despite my contemporary exterior I am a creature of habit and tradition. On Sunday, the classic brunch at PJs with the girls, where after 5 years I still always have the eggs florentine. The casual saunter past the shop fronts around the Bibendum (oh wait! shoes!) and the boy-talk over fruit cocktails on Fulham.

Of course, it's your French quarter I love. Don't be offended, you can take the girl out of Paris but...; well, you know how it is.